Canadia
by the-shy-invisible-one
Summary: Hockey player Matthew Williams is just an ordinary and shy high school student who has loved Michelle (OC) since Kindergarten. But mysteriously, they stopped talking after untimely events and secretly Michelle wants to change that. A twist of events causes Matt to leave the country (briefly) and meet someone who will help him solve the mystery of his teammate's death.
1. Chapter 1

They all simply see right through me. It's not that I'm actually invisible, but no one seems to take notice of me. Sometimes that can be a good thing, like if you're trying not to be noticed by someone you hate. But other times, when you think about it for awhile, you come up with more cons than pros.  
I have a small group of friends, and my best friend, an Italian boy named Feliciano, seems to be the only one who can see the real me, Matthew Williams. I have a few other friends such as Ivan, Arthur, and my brother Alfred, but Ivan could sit on me and not even notice, while Alfred only sees me when he wants to.  
All of the smart scientists say they have one major concern for introverts like me, and that would be the quality of our education. We sit in the back of the class, never really noticed by the teachers except on the extremely rare occasion that we work up the courage to raise our hand. Everyone claims that we live in an extrovert society, but that the value of introverts is overlooked. Social situations are not our forte, but when it comes to the written word, many of us can make some real magic.  
I dream of being widely known by the entire world, but am also too afraid to even go up and talk to the girl I like, Michelle. I've liked her since what seems like the beginning of time, but in reality it's only been three years. She's shy like me but she's one of those jocks that are female, the ones that everyone knows and hangs out with. Whenever I talk to someone about her they always compliment her and tell me how nice she is, but that doesn't lessen the fear of telling her how I feel.  
Feliciano always talks about how I don't need her, and I sometimes I think he's right, but whenever I see her I have not a drop of resolve in my body to try and give her up. If only I were less of a wall flower, maybe we would be friends again by now.  
Or, if hockey was popular in this God-forsaken country of America, maybe I would become less invisible.


	2. Chapter 2

The slamming of lockers really sets off the mood of school. People shove past me as I try and snake my way up the hallway, eventually getting shoved up[ against the wall by the tide of people going in the opposite direction. Which is, to my misfortune, everyone but me.  
_This is ridiculous. _I think, as I get smashed in-between two of the ever-annoying football players on either side of me_. _We really need to come up with a different meeting place, trying to get through all this traffic really sets off my mood.  
Finally, I see all of the guys waiting for me.* Nate slaps my back, and Michael smiles at me, both of them glad their captain could make it. Everyone else is dorking around, as usual, but I don't blame them because it takes me forever to meet them here in the way back of the school. We're so far away from any of the classrooms that you can practically see the cobwebs. Just kidding, our janitor's not _that _bad. And there are some classes back here, they're just used for things like chess club and drama. I call them Matt-rooms, because they're like me. No one ever sees them.  
"Are you ready for practice today, oh great captain Matt?" My least favorite teammate, Caleb, mocks me just as I was about to speak.  
"Of course," I replied quietly; everyone shut up and looked at me. "What about you guys, are you ready for practice?" I asked my team. I got a murmured chorus of conscent.  
I looked at my watch and my eyes widened, we were already running late. Great start to a season. I motioned for the others to follow me and we all sprinted out of the school to our rides.  
My car was parked somewhat close to the school, I hate walking in to school and seeing everyone acknowledge each other; everyone but me. I grabbed the keys out of my pocket and practically dove into the driver's seat; my gear was already in the trunk. I started the car as quickly as I could, and I could make the safe assumption that everyone else was too. We never wanted to let our coach down and he hates it when we're late. Usually it's my fault.  
We were all stuck behind a red light. That is, everyone but Caleb, and I saw Michelle run by with the rest of the girl's soccer team, wearing their sweatshirts and matching socks. I looked to the next car over and saw Nate was giving me a look, and I turned around just in time to see the light had turned green. I'm so easily distracted by Michelle...  
I swear, if we're late, I am forcing them to change our meeting spot. But we get there just barely on time, parking at lightning speed (it really could have violated parking lot conduct), grabbing our gear from the trunks of our vehicles, and coming barreling through the door and towards the locker rooms at the rink where Coach was waiting, his foot tapping on the tile and echoing through the locker room which was lacking his hockey players.  
"Glad to see you could make it, Matt." He joked, a slight smile crossing his face.  
"There was a bit of traffic." I said, quickly changing into my skates and putting on my safety gear. It always seems never-ending. Caleb was already there, smugly putting on his helmet while we were still changing.  
If he were any more obnoxious I would have socked him in the face already, even if that would mean I wouldn't be allowed to play a few games. That punch would be well deserved.  
After much chatting about tactics and what sort of things we need to work on for our first game, we finally got out on the ice. _I'm home. _I thought, smiling through my mouth guard as we took laps around the rink.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a pretty uneventful practice as far as first practices go, I got slammed into the wall just a few times by Caleb. I still really want to punch him. Him and a few of the guys were going around saying that I shouldn't be captain since I'm 'too quiet'. Luckily Coach disagreed, he thinks I set a perfect example for the team. Besides, everyone voted for me to be the captain again this year and changing it would really get some blood boiling. If Caleb weren't such a great hockey player, no_way _would he be on the team. Coach thinks this might be his last year, too. He keeps acting like some stupid gangster or whatever. It's not cool.  
All during practice today he was trying to show off, sliding past Nate so close he almost tripped and nearly sent the puck through the roof. What good would that do us in a game?  
I heard Coach say to him after Caleb was bothering him for a while, "What I look for in a captain is pride in the game, perseverance, and a player that sets a good example for his team with a positive attitude. I just don't see these qualities in you."  
"And you think _Matt _has those qualities? He's quieter than the puck." Caleb replied, eyes blazing with a power hungry fire. I bet he lives on attention.  
"No, Caleb. I _know _Matt has the qualities I'm looking for. That's why he is captain, and not you or anyone else, despite how unusually quiet he is." Coach looked Caleb right in those burning black eyes full of hot anger.  
"Fine." Caleb spat, turning and stalking off with his anger managment issues.  
I don't know if any of the other guys heard that, but everyone was pretty distant towards each other in the locker room. Caleb was gone before we even got in there, who knows where he is now. Hopefully not planning some ridiculous thing to do to Coach, because he'll pay for that.  
It doesn't occur to me until after I walked out the door and got a foot right in the balls that maybe Caleb had planned something for me.  
I dropped like a stone, trying to swing out with my fist and catch someone in the shin... or something. But I rough hand grabbed me before I made contact with anything and took me around the corner into the alley way. Not a good situation.  
"What's the matter, Matt? Too silent to call out for help?" I hear Caleb's ever mocking voice say.  
I just stared at him, my eyes narrowed in a lot of pain, sprawled across the pavement trying to decide how I should take this bastard out. He laughed at me, but I had decided what to do. I threw a rock down the alley when he was too distracted by his own cockiness to notice me and as he turned around to see what made the noise, I got up, kneed him in the back of the balls and held his hands behind his back so his shoulders stuck out at an awkward angle.  
Normally I'm not really violent but this guy crossed the line. I turned and slammed him against the wall, his head bashing against the red bricks and punching him dead in the nose. I like to think I heard a crunch.  
His hands were still desperatley trying to reach in the direction of his crotch and he looked like hell, then I let him fall to his knees and vomit on the pavement. That's how you beat up a douche bag. I told him that if he ever told anyone about this he would hear the sound of my fist connecting to his rib cage and he just moaned, I think I got him in the nuts pretty good. Serves him right.  
Speaking off, I think he did some pretty decent damage on mine, too. I got in my car and drove away, all the guys were already gone. With the exception of Caleb, who was pretty much crawling out of the alleyway. Man, I really got him good. Maybe my dad was right when he said I should be in wrestling, too...  
My house isn't far at all from the rink, so it takes me less than ten minutes to get home. I was still in a lot of pain when I got home, I'm pretty sure my eyes were still squinting from my continuous wincing, getting kicked in the balls is not to be taken sitting down. It's actually kind of hard for someone to kick you in the balls while you're sitting down, though. Let's try something else. How about: it hurts like hell.  
My mom wasn't surprised when I came home from practice with blood on my face. You could tell that woman this or that had happened during practice and she'd simply believe it. Same with my dad, he always says that anything can happen during hockey. That's how he lost his finger. Never can trust those skates, those blades are sharp.  
"Matt, please give me your gear so I can wash it. Now, would be nice." My mom said as she came into the living room. I don't even get a hello. Then she sees the ice bag on my crotch.  
"...hockey incident?" She asks me.  
"Yup, I'll get my gear out of the car then." I told her, trying to escape her motherly concern for things that are irrelevant.  
"What happened, Matthew?" She solicited, blocking me from the entry way with her enormous laundry basket.  
"Caleb was fooling around. It happens, Mom." I attempt, again, to shrug off her interrogation. She'll believe anything, but not until she tries to pick you apart. Luckily she's not very good at that.  
"Did he get you with his stick _again?_" I winced as I remembered last season, when Caleb got me with the flat part of his hockey stick while he was 'going for the puck.' Sure he was.  
"No, it was just an accident. His foot came a little bit higher than I anticipated..." I trailed off. This was becoming too much of a lie.  
But she let me through, accepting the lie I fed her, and I quickly got my bag and set it in the laundry room. My little brother, Alfred, always throws his all over the place so his helmet falls out and his stick is sticking halfway out of the top. I'd never do that to my equipment, especially since it's so expensive.  
"Thanks, Mattie." I got slightly annoyed at the use of my nickname, but my mom was so childishly innocent that I let it slide. It's really weird when your mom is more innocent than you are.  
My homework was done so I sat on the couch with my bag of ice and watched a bit of hockey.


	4. Chapter 4

I was too busy celebrating a well-earned goal to notice that there was a knock on the door. Apparently my mom let whoever it was in, because all of a sudden she was leading _Michelle _through the embarrasingly cluttered living room. Where I was also sitting on the couch watching hockey with a pack of ice on my balls.  
I reached quickly to get a blanket but her eyes suddenly went down, and her eyes widened. Great, that's just what I need. Michelle in my living room looking down... there. I abandoned all attempts at making this situation run smoothly and just got up and walked over to her standing awkardly behind the couch with my mom.  
"Uhh... hi." I said somewhat awkwardly. There was nothing good about this situation other than that she was in my house after so many years...  
"Hey, Matt." She smiled at me, somewhat embarrased about the fact that she had walked in on me like that. My mom should've known better.  
"So, eh, why are you here?" I asked, my mom standing next to us and enjoying our awkwardness.  
"I just wanted to... uhhh..." She looked down, possibly at a place the sun doesn't shine. Maybe some good did come out of that.  
"She wanted some sugar. She's making cookies." My mom explained to me, crossing the rest of the length of the carpeted living room and into the kitchen.  
"Right." Michelle breathed. My mind was completely blank except for one thought:  
_Oh my God, she's in my house. Oh my God, she's in my house. Oh my God, she's in my house. _Over and over again.  
"How was hockey practice, Matt?" She asked, trying to talk to me. I didn't know she even remembered my _name, _let alone that I had hockey practice tonight.  
"It was great." I replied lamely. She looked down _again.  
_"How did... how did _that _happen?" She gestured to cuts on my face.  
"Got into a fight. No big deal." I said. Michelle paled.  
"Please don't get into fights, Matt. Hockey is so dangerous." I just shrugged, but secretely I was ecstatic she didn't like me getting into fights and knew enough about hockey to know it was dangerous.  
_Of course she does, idiot. She used to play with you all the time. _I told myself.  
_But that was years ago.  
_ "You're lying to me, Matt." She whispered, moving closer to me.  
"And you're driving me crazy." I whispered back. I don't know why we were whispering.

Of course, my first moment with Michelle in _years _and my mom just _had _to come in and ruin it. And on that note, why is Michelle suddenly talking to me? She never really took notice of me until she came over here just now to borrow our sugar.  
"Did I interrupt something?" My mom asked innocently.  
"No, not at all." I lied, trying to disguise my bitterness. My mom handed the sugar to a not-so-subtle Michelle, who was blushing. But why the _hell _did that conversation go the way it did. I thought she barely remembered my existence.  
I mean, of course she knows me. We're practically neighbors and she used to go out on the pond and play hockey with me all the time. But that was when we were six. Maybe not even six.  
"'Bye, Matt." She smiled at me before she walked out the door and my mom shut it very tightly behind her. I had forgotten all about Caleb kicking me in the crotch earlier, as well as the hockey game that was blaring in the living room.  
Standing in the entry way with my mom staring at me; something had changed. Somehow, by some crazy way of God's good will towards a beat up hockey captain, Michelle had come to my house, and talked to me. I felt like I was dreaming. This hasn't happened since that one day so many winters ago...


	5. Chapter 5

Looking out my window in my bedroom upstairs I can remember it almost as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. It was a particularly cold winter that year and every inch of water you could find was frozen. All of the kids in my kindergarten class wanted to go skating, but the rink hadn't been installed yet.

Since we were just six years old, the older kids had to take us to the lake to go skating. We would skate all afternoon when we got out of school, then the older kids would play hockey. I always loved watching them, how they moved with the stick and the puck as if it was an extension of their body.

Looking back now, most of what I remember from winter days as a little kid was skating with Michelle and her older brother, Lucas. He would take us out to the pond in my backyard so we could have it all to ourselves.

On one day in particular he took us out there when my dad was at work and my mom was out grocery shopping. I don't know any other fourteen year old boys that would've done that for their little sister and her friend, but Luke was different.

He loved teaching us how to play hockey, and he thought it was hilarious whenever we would collide on the ice and fall in a tangled mess of arms, legs, and sticks. That was before the heavy snowfall.

Everything was covered in snow. The trees, the ground, houses, roads, and anything else you could think of had a thick white blanket. Some of the trees were starting to crack, but we didn't think anything of it when Luke took us out to my pond.

The snow from the pond was already gone from the day before, so Luke went out with his hockey stick to test out the ice for us. We weren't too worried about him falling in; it was really cold outside.

Just as he got to the middle there was an ear-splitting crack. A branch fell from a nearby tree and smashed a hole right where Luke had been standing. He was gone.

We slipped and slid over the ice to see if we could try and pull him out, but try as we might we could not see Luke in the icy water. We ran back to Michelle's house to get her mom.

Opening the door to her house, Michelle started screaming, "MOM, LUKE FELL IN THE WATER!"

She grabbed a coat and her cell phone and ran out to the pond with us, dialing 9-1-1 as we ran. Police officers, firefighters, and an ambulance came and pulled a very icy fourteen year old boy out of the deadly water.

They tried to save Luke, but it was no use. One man explained that he had been dead for about a minute before they found him. Michelle, her mom, and I were all crying.

About a week later there was a funeral service. It was the coldest day of the year, even after the day when Luke fell in the pond, and trees all over the state were dropping like soldiers on a battlefield. You could hear the cracking of branches and trunks even from inside the church.

I wasn't allowed to talk to anyone at that funeral but my parents. It didn't matter, since I didn't want to. I had no idea what to say to all of the people who were crying. Luke was a devastating loss to Michelle's family.

After the funeral Michelle's parents refused to talk to me or my parents, and they forced Michelle to never speak to me again. My mom told me that they didn't want to talk to us because we reminded them too much of what happened to Luke.

I still have this nagging feeling that it was somehow my fault, even though everyone insists that it wasn't. Michelle's parents seem to act like it's my family's fault. In a way I guess it is, because a man did come out the summer before and tell us we needed to get rid of that tree or it could kill someone.

No one ever thought he would be right. No one ever would have guessed that Luke would die that cold winter day, but he did.

Michelle just talked to me for the first time in over ten years, and all I said to her was lies about hockey and that lame comment about how she was driving me crazy.

_Matthew Williams, you are an _idiot.


	6. Chapter 6

I pulled into the school parking lot and the sign in front greeted me with its usual message, "Welcome to Mountain High School, home of the Bears." It might as well have said, "Welcome to Hell."

Parking my car, I slipped out and pulled my hood up to cover my face. It was raining at a slant, so rain drops were splashing into my eyes. The joy of spring in Northern Idaho.

My backpack tugged heavily at my back; I was already sore from hockey and the fight yesterday. No way was my math book only five pounds. Today, it felt more like fifty.

As I walked slowly towards the school by way of the rain-soaked sidewalk, I quickly scanned the front of the school for Michelle and her friends. To my astonishment, Michelle was looking in my direction. I quickly looked away, instead looking down at the sidewalk.

To my great dismay, a tug on my backpack nearly sent my tailbone into the sidewalk.

"Matt!" I heard a female voice screech in my ear. I turned around to see Bella, my lab partner, with a worn out looking Michael behind her. I waved at Michael, feeling a bit bad for him as he had to chauffeur his little sister around _everywhere. _Though she's only a freshman, she's in my advanced junior science class, simply because she is just that smart.

"Hey, Bella. What are you dragging around Mike for now?" I inquired.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you had finished the homework last night." _What homework?_  
"The... homework?"

"I thought so, here, I did it for both of us." She handed me a piece of paper with a couple of paragraphs on it.

"Thanks, Bella. How would I pass science without you?" I smiled down at her. She's very short.

"Just make sure you do your homework next time." She smiled back at me through her dirty blonde bangs. "We should get inside, we're all getting soaked standing out here."

"Right," I replied, absentmindedly tucking the paper into my backpack and looking over at Michelle. Michael smirked as Bella tugged my jacket sleeve in the direction of the double doors.

I reluctantly followed Bella and Michael, wondering why Veneziano hadn't shown up yet. Come to think of it, he was probably with Ludwig. The doors slammed behind me and the buzz of high school hallways assaulted my ears. Everyone was talking, all the time.

One of my pretty good friends Roderich was waving me over to stand around with him and his friends, so I left Michael and Bella with a silent wave. That's my style.

"Matt, come over here!" Roderich called as I wove my way through the ridiculous crowd.

"Hey, Rick." I said, uncomfortably standing pressed up against a wall because a random girl was right in front of me.

"How was hockey last night? Personally I prefer pursuing my musical talents." He pretended to play a piano.

"It was alright." Fire burned in my eyes as I thought of Caleb.

"I haven't seen that one guy, Caleb? I don't think he's here today."

"Nah, he wouldn't be." I said, completely failing at getting the subject off me and my hockey team.

"Do you know why?" Rick pressed, trying to get me to admit my crime.

"He had a pretty rough practice last night." I replied, not letting him get it out of me.

"Oh, well I guess that could be why." Rick said, giving up.

Suddenly I saw Feliciano making his way towards me. I waved around for a bit, not having to do much for him to see me. I love that.

I met him halfway, smiling as he came up to me.

"Feli, Michelle came to my house last night!"

"Whoa, really? Why?"

"You know, I'm actually not sure, she said it was to get flour for some cookies but I think she might've had a different reason."

"Maybe she's finally in love with you, Matt!" Feli joked.

"That's so likely, judging by how I was there when Luke died."

"You never know, you are kinda a jock." Feli winked at me. Sometimes he worries me...

"Feli, hockey players are hardly considered jocks in this country."

"Ludwig!" Feli called out to the very tall and intimidating German.

"What, Feliciano?" Ludwig sighed.

"Hockey players are jocks, right?" Feli looked pleadingly at Ludwig.

"I suppose, Feli."

"You see, Feli. 'I suppose' isn't exactly the answer I was looking for." I said dully.

"Matt, you _are _a jock. Michelle said so." Feli smiled reassuringly at me.

Suddenly Ivan came up behind me and prodded me in the back. I turned around and stared at his huge figure; he is bigger than any other person in the entire school. He has a terrible reputation, but at the same time he is nearly as quiet as I am.

"You aren't talking about that girl again are you, Matt?" Ivan asked me.

"O-of course not, Ivan." Sometimes he really scares me. No, it's actually most of the time.

"Yes we were!" Feliciano exclaimed, much to my dismay.

"You were, da? I prefer talking about sunflowers..." The Russian looked out the tiny window at the front of the school and looked longingly at the garden beyond as if willing sunflowers to appear there just as the bell rung.

"W-we better get to class then." I stuttered. I pushed through people, trying not to shove them to the ground, and finally got to my class just as the bell rang.


	7. Chapter 7

School seemed to drag on forever; the block classes our school has decided to use doesn't help the situation. I'm not sure why the school board would think we want to sit in class for ninety minutes, but they claim we're getting more class time by making us go to only three absurdly long classes instead of five.

I'm in the last period of the day; Art. Mr. Burk is trying to teach seniors in high school how to weave baskets and personally, it's not working out that well for me. Mr. Burke said I need to go and soak the weavers more often, but I don't think all the soaking in the world would help me calm down enough to not break these little sticks.

Michelle is ignoring me again. She came to my house and talked to me; we even had a 'moment' and now she's gone back to what she has been doing for eleven years. Ignoring her former best friend, Matt Williams, and pretending he doesn't exist. But then again, there aren't many people who _don't _do that.

Anyways, the bell is ringing and I am shoving my basket back in the cabinet for safe-keeping as Nate walks into the emptying classroom.

"Matt, I ran all the way here from History to get to you in time." Nate blurted, tugging on the sleeve of my Toronto Maple Leafs sweatshirt and towards the parking lot.

"Wh-why?" I questioned, smacking his hand so he would let go of me.

"Caleb," He whispered; sending anger coursing through my veins.

"Caleb?" I replied, dogging a few girls who were going to walk right into me.

"Michael heard he's planning revenge, whatever that's supposed to mean." Nate tried to pretend he had no idea I had beat Caleb up the night before, but he was too smart.

"How the hell did Michael hear about that?" I exclaimed.

"He heard a few of Caleb's friends talking about how Caleb stayed home today to plan something for you, Matt. Something bad. I'm afraid if I leave you alone some of Caleb's crew will gang up on you; can you give Michael and I a ride to practice? We walked to school today."

"Sure, Nate." Why the hell would they walk ten miles to school?

"Thanks, Michael has our bags." Just another part of their weird brother-like friendship; Michael was always in charge of lugging around their hockey gear. Interesting what Michael will do for his next door neighbor.

"How did Bella get to school?"

"She walked with us; Michael wouldn't leave her to take the bus." Weird guy, Michael. I'll never understand his connection with his little sister.

By this time we were already at my car. Michael was waiting by the trunk with the duffel bags at his feet.

"Hey, Mike." I murmured, opening the trunk door for him. He nodded in response.

"Let's go to practice, guys." I unlocked the car doors and we all got in. Little did any of us know as we were driving away; someone was watching us.

We were halfway to the rink when I got a call from Feli.

"Don't go to practice, Matt! They're police surrounding the rink. They're looking for you."

"Feli, what the hell?" I grumbled.

"Matt, you have to trust me! Caleb is dead."

"You better be joking, I didn't hit hard enough to kill him!" I exclaimed, Michael and Nate suddenly had masks of horror on their faces.

"Meet me at the gas station on the outside of town. I have some stuff for you and I'll bring Michael and Nate to practice."

"What the hell, how did he die?"

"He stood up in the alley after you left, he passed out, fell and broke his neck. Matt, you gotta hurry!" Feli was starting to panic. Heck, I was starting to panic. I had an incoming call.

"Matthew Williams," It was my mom. Shit.

"Why did I get a call from the police saying that you _killed _one of your teammates?"

"I-I don't... I kind of beat him up... a little... Feliciano said he passed out and broke his neck."

"Matt, come home _now._" I saw a police car out of my rear view mirror.

"_Shit, _mom I'll call you later." I hung up on her.

"What the hell is going on?" Nate questioned.

"I killed him." The reality of it was really setting in as I pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned gas station and Feli was waiting there in his car.

"We're going to be late for practice." Nate stated, looking at his watch.

"Matt, oh my God. You... you've killed someone now."

"I know and I really don't want to talk about that right now. I saw a police car just a few minutes ago."

Michael was shoving their hockey bags into the back of Feli's tiny car. Typical of all Italians, Feli's choice in vehicles was a small sports car he bought with the combined efforts of him and his extended family.

"Here's your crap. I dropped by your house and picked it up while your mom was out shopping." Feli handed me a suitcase. "There's some money in there, too." He said in a low voice.

"Feli... how did you hear about all this?" I asked.

"My grandpa was on the police force." He stated simply, as if that completely answered my question.

"I'll call you, guys." I told Mike, Nate, and Feli as they got into his car. Mike looked like a giant. I took the suitcase Feli gave me and got the hell out of town. While I realized it might have been more rational to just stay instead of running; prison was not an option I was willing to take.


	8. Chapter 8

As I drive aimlessly through Idaho, I can picture myself in court. My hands nearly spouting sweat as everyone stares at me in judgment. I think of how I wouldn't be able to talk in front of all those people who probably already hate me, and I can picture myself stuttering in front of everyone. I definitely wouldn't look the part of a criminal, though.

I still can't believe I killed him. I have no idea what to do. I feel like I should pull over and look to see what Feli put in my suitcase, but I'm afraid the police will find me if I stop for even a second. Stoplights are maddening. I've thought about running away to Canada and then I start wondering if Feli packed my passport. I sure hope he did.

I've decided that as soon as I get out of Idaho, I am looking in my suitcase.

I drive for what seems like forever. My coach called me early on in my drive and I let the phone ring. I can't face him yet. There is no way in hell he'll ever forgive me for killing one of my teammates, let alone getting into a fight with him. Make that a battle.

I'm in the backwoods of Montana, finally. There's not much of a signal here but low and behold, my mom's call comes through. I answer it on a whim.

"Matt," My mom begins.

"Mom, I'm really not in the mood for your squabbling." I sigh, knowing that being rude to her will make her even more upset.

"Michelle called." Something in my heart squeezed.

"...what did she say?" I ask, my voice quieter.

"She wants to know where you're going." My mom sounded like she was holding back tears.

"To be honest, mom, I have no idea. Can you give me Michelle's number? I'll call her back..."

"I'll text you her number." My mom gives up too easily.

"Thanks, mom. I love you."

"Be careful, Matt." My mom hung up the phone.

My phone vibrated in my pocket after a few minutes, displaying the digits that would connect me with Michelle's voice. Not wanting the call to disconnect, I decided not to call her yet.

I pulled off to the side of the road and rummaged through my suitcase. Feli packed me my clothes, a few things from my room like my MVP trophy from last season on the school hockey team, various other things that would come in handy later and, bless that Italian, my passport. I don't know how he found it or why he packed it; I'm just glad Feli knows me enough to realize I would want to run away to a different country. Particularly Canada, home of hockey.

All I needed was to get into Canada.

Driving towards the Canadian border, I decided to call Michelle. I clicked on the number my mom sent me and the phone began to ring.

"Hello?" It was her.

"Hey, Michelle." I breathed. My hands were getting sweaty like they always do when I talk to her.

"Matt, is that you?" She recognized my voice?  
"Yeah, it's me." I answered lamely.

"Oh my God, what are you doing?" She whispered.

"I can honestly say I have no idea. All I know is I'm getting to Canada as fast as I can."

"What did you do to him?" Everyone wants to talk about that.

"I guess I got him pretty good, didn't I?" That sounded awful.

"You..." Michelle sucked in a breath. "Matt, you _killed _him." My heart raced when she reminded me of my crime.

"I-I know, but there's nothing I can do about it now, can I?"

"Maybe you could." A maple leaf tumbles down from the canopy over the road and lands softly on the windshield. I sigh.

"What would I do?"

"For starters, you wouldn't leave Feli and your parents here to deal with all this bullshit." I wince, Michelle doesn't usually swear and she really has a point about me just leaving them to deal with everything. Great, another thing to feel like shit about.

"Hey, Feli told me to leave." There is no one else on the road.

"Why couldn't you have just gone to court like a normal person?" Good question.

"Because I killed him."

"You know that for sure?"

"Well, yes, and my parents could never afford a lawyer. Not that they'd want to try and get me out of the punishment I deserve for killing Caleb."

"Matt, if you don't come back, I'll really miss you." I think my heart stopped.

"I-I'll miss you too." Why would she miss me?

"Oh sh-Matt my mom's home I gotta go. I-I hope you come back."

"I'll call you..." I heard a beep to confirm the call had ended, and Michelle was gone.

I was almost to the Canadian border when I started to run out of gas. Why would I ever pay attention to my fuel gauge before, it's not like I ever go anywhere but hockey and school.

A gas station came into view on my left and I put my blinker on for what seemed like ages. I felt like waiting for someone to let me in or the traffic to let up would be the death of me. Metaphorically, of course.

Pulling into the gas station, I felt like an idiot for not thinking to get gas earlier. I was fidgeting at every police siren I heard in the distance and I felt like everyone could plainly see I was running away from something.

The gas tank was filling up so slowly I wanted to scream. I stared at the gallons going up with the amount of money I would have to pay and swore. It was easily over how much cash I had in my wallet. But maybe Feli packed me some, though it's unlikely.

I peered through my car's tinted windows and spotted my suitcase. Should I get it out? I suppose it was worth a try, especially since I only had fifty bucks.

I jumped into my car and seized my suitcase from the back. I rummaged through it for a while and noticed something tucked into a plastic sack. Could it be a wallet?

Holy shit, it is a wallet. I'm not sure where Feliciano got all this money but I sure am glad he did. He managed to get me more than fifteen hundred dollars.

"Geezus, Feli." I whispered as I rummaged through the various bills. I pulled out a hundred; that would be enough to pay for gas.

I had this strange feeling that eyes were burning into the back of my head. I turned around and a tall guy about my age was looking at me intensely. He has really tall, spiked blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to be piercing through my body to see my inner workings.

It was very disconcerting; especially when he walked over to me.

"Hello, my name is Anthony." He had to be at least three inches taller than my five feet ten inches.

"Uh, hi. I'm Matt." I answered, shoving the money quickly into the machine to pay for my gas.

"You look nervous." He murmured, leaning up against the pump. His voice was pretty deep.

"Why are you talking to me?" I asked him, shutting the little door that opens so you can pump gas into my car.

"You looked like you needed someone to talk to." What the hell is that supposed to me?

"Well, I don't." I tried to get into my car but he moved in front of me.

"Look, just talk to me for a second."

"I'm kind of in a hurry." I gave him my most intimidating stare.

"You play hockey?"

"Yeah." How could he have guessed that?

"I do, too. Please talk to me?"

"Alright, fine."

"Okay, let's start with the simple things: Why is there a suitcase in the back of your car?"

"That's a long story." I blanched.

"I can tell by your face that there is something up with that suitcase. Come on, you can tell me."

"I'm running away." I decided to tell the guy.

"Oh, are you? Excellent, so am I." I glanced at my car.

"Eager to get away, are we?" He chuckled. I decided this whole conversation was getting pretty strange.

_No really._ I thought to myself.

"Well actually, yes. You see, my friend brought me that suitcase and helped me get out of town because... I... it was an accident." I felt like crying. I had never hurt anyone (outside of hockey) in my entire life.

"What was an accident?" Anthony pressed.

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Shit, what did you do that was so bad you had to run away?"

"I... uhhh... killed one of my teammates. On accident." My voice was so low, _I _could barely hear myself.

"An accident, you say? How did he die?" I cringed at his casual way of talking of Caleb's death.

"Well it started with him kicking me in the balls and it just escalated to me completely losing it and leaving him there on the concrete. I guess he got up, passed out, and broke his neck on the pavement when he fell."

"That sounds like a pretty far-fetched way to die." Anthony was looking me right in the eyes and it was making me really uncomfortable.

"That's what the police are saying, anyways."

"Oh man, so you ran." Anthony shook his head.

"Yes; can I leave now?"

"By all means, but you'll regret not taking me with you." Anthony smiled slyly down at me.

"I just met you..." I looked at him again and he was still smiling. I scoffed the sole of my foot on the pavement. There was hardly anyone at the gas station. No one was waiting for the spot I was taking up.

"Fine, you can come with me." I decided to take him on a whim.

"Thanks, Matt."

He got into my car and we drove away from the gas station. After I took my change from the gas.


	9. Chapter 9

The radio signals were all static, so we sat in silence as I drove. The rain was pounding hard on my roof as we pulled up to the border patrol. I was nervous as we got out of the car, but Anthony had something in his hand.

"What's that?" I asked him, staring at his hand.

"Our ticket to Canada." I didn't want to know what it was.

Anthony walked up to the border patrol officer and showed him whatever was in his hand.

"You two can go." He pointed at us. _What the hell did he show that guy?_

Anthony motioned for me to go with him and we got back in our car. He showed me the paper that got us through to Canada.

"You're a border patrol officer? That doesn't make sense..." I trailed off.

"Yup, I have been for about a year. If I want to go to Canada I can take anyone with me. They trust me that much, the fools."

"That's crazy. How old are you, then?"

"I just turned twenty four yesterday." I bit my lip as he stared at me, as if asking me how old _I _am.

"I'm seventeen." I replied, starting the car back up.

"That's not surprising to me; teenagers are always running away." He smiled knowingly at me. The sound of my cell phone ringing cut off my retort.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey, no talking and driving." I heard Anthony say.

"Matthew, come home or I will set out to look for you myself." It was my dad.

"Sorry Dad, I don't think I can do that just now." We were driving into Canada.

"You have everyone in the town on tenterhooks."

"You know, you're fortunate enough to have a son who actually knows what that means. Most children don't." I answered.

"Are you referring to yourself as a child?" Shit, I shouldn't have said that.

"No of course not... I was... referring to Alfred as a child." That doesn't make any sense, but Dad will have to deal with it.

"That's interesting, seeing as how Alfred has nothing to do with you running away." The man has a point.

"Dad, I really can't talk about this right now. I'll call you ba-" And the call was cut off. Thank God for rural areas. Heck, you can't even call this rural. This is nowhere, and it's perfect. There's no one on the road to freak me out and where there isn't any people, there won't be any officers.

"So, what's your big plan now, Matt?" Anthony asks me from the passenger seat.

"I have no idea. Want to help me out with that?"

"I have a small house within a few miles of here. Nobody really knows about it except me and... a few other people. You should be safe there, as long as the wildlife stays away."

"Sounds like a plan, just tell me where to turn."

Silence is the preferred noise level as I drive and seeing as how I've lost my cell reception, Anthony and I are completely on our own. Good thing he's an adult.

I turn onto the road to get to his house and I am mystified. The trees quickly thicken and there is a canopy not high above our heads. It looks like something out of a fairytale.

"There's my driveway." I could see so little of it that I would have missed it had he not pointed it out.

"This place looks perfect." I stare in awe at his log cabin style house.

"Would you like a tour?" He asks, smiling slightly. I nod as we walk down the pathway to his front door.

I had to admit, the house on the inside was a little creepy. As I walked in I heard glass smashing somewhere on the second floor. That scared me practically out of my skin.

It was dark; it was secluded. I wondered for a small moment if I would die out here. My phone still wasn't getting a signal.

All of the windows had dark shades over them to keep the light out, most likely to preserve all of the ancient furniture that decorated the house.

"I got it all from my great grandmother." Anthony declared, patting the couch. Dust particles were caught in what little light was streaming through the window. I started to pull back the shade but it stuck. They were attached to the wall, and well. I didn't like that at all.

The way the house smelled reminded me of death. I shivered as I remembered Luke once again and I was glad there were no ponds in Antony's yard. I could half imagine a dead body crawling from it and haunting this house. It was entirely possibly; the house looked like the setting for a horror movie.

It definitely didn't match the outside; or at least that's what I had thought.


	10. Chapter 10

Anthony herded me up the stairs and showed me to my room. The guest room had the same dark furniture, and to make it worse, there were bizarre paintings of bloodied animals and gore hidden in the closet. What a pleasant place for house guests to stay.

I was seriously wondering what was up with this place when I looked out the window that night after dinner. I had to pry off the shades, and if I'm completely honest, a bit of the dry wall as well, but looking out the window right as twilight fell was definitely worth it.

A bit of sunlight seemed to be radiating from the leaves of the trees, which surround the house as if they are somehow drawn towards it. Branches press against it as if they were caressing the siding. It is a very strange place; this place Anthony has taken me to.

The graveyard is overgrown with ivy that stretches across both tombstone and gargoyle. Did I mention there were gargoyles? I can hear howls from the forest as the first moonbeams are thrown onto the forest floor.

There in the thickening trees I can just make out a pair of red eyes watching me and I have a very strong and sudden urge to put the shade back on the window.

A crashing noise resounds from somewhere down the narrow hallway which scares me so badly I jump onto my bed and pull the covers up past my chest. What the hell just happened?

A door creaks open. Could it be Anthony? Could it not be Anthony? I almost don't want to know.

I didn't hear any footsteps, but the handle of my door is turned. Is this house haunted?

"Yes," Holy shit. The door is open and I feel cold. All I can do is stare at the doorway with wide eyes.

"H-hello?" There is no answer. I wonder how I am going to get to sleep at night. Then I realize I also left my suitcase in the car. No way in hell am I going back out there.

My only choice is to pull the covers up over my head and hope that everything I have heard in this house will stay out in the hallway. I didn't think about closing the door; I didn't think it would matter.

The rain pounding on the rooftop is what woke me early the next morning. My sheets were stuffed underneath the bed; I must have thrown them off in my sleep or something. What a weird night.

I can smell bacon sizzling downstairs, but it was only five in the morning. Why would I wake up at five in the morning? The only explanation I can find is that I smelt the bacon, but I don't understand why Anthony would be up either.

I decided to go down and investigate the bacon smell.

Walking downstairs was a bit odd. Anthony's door was closed and the lights in the hallway downstairs were off.

Who knows, maybe Anthony likes to cook in the dark.

"Anthony?" The lights are off in the kitchen, too. There is no response.

"Why the hell did I smell bacon...?" I ask myself aloud. A cool breeze pressed my shirt into my skin.

"I don't know. Why are you in my brother's house?" There was a girl standing right in front of me.

"Woah... how did you get here...?" I asked, somewhat freaked out about a girl sneaking up on me in this nearly empty house.

"I live here..." She answered, motioning with her pale hand. I turned around when I heard footsteps on the stairs. There was Anthony, staring with wide eyes at the girl.

"Lilli?" Anthony trembled. I had no idea what was going on as I looked back and forth between the smiling girl and the frightened Anthony.

"Anthony, how nice to see you." She reached out her hand; it went right through my chest. I must have jumped a foot in the air; having a hand go through your chest is not something you want to experience.  
"Well that's odd." The girl said, frowning at her hand as she withdrew it from my abdomen.

"I-I'll say." I stuttered, trying to rub the coldness from my chest.

"Lilli, how did you-why are you here?" Anthony asked, staring with huge eyes at the girl.

"I live here, of course. Had you forgotten?"

"Lilli, you've been dead for _two years_. You _used _to live here." Anthony articulated carefully.

"That explains why my hand went through _him_..." She motioned to me carelessly. So this girl... is a ghost?

"Excuse me, if you've been dead for two years, how are you here?" I asked as politely as I could.

"To be honest, I have no idea." Lilli frowned.

"My name is Matt."

"Right, uh, Lilli? This is my friend. He's living here-temporarily."

"Nice to meet you, Matt." She held her hand out as if she expected me to shake it and changed her mind. She lifted one of her muddy boots as if to tap the floor and must have thought better of it, for she stopped in mid-tap.

"Lilli, could you leave Matt and I to talk for a bit?" Anthony looked at her carefully.

"I suppose I could." Lilli retreated to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her.

"Matt, I don't understand this any more than you do." Anthony explained to me.

"Well you sure as hell don't understand a lot, do you?" I retorted, throwing my hands up in the air.

"I mean, Lilli and I were practically best friends a few years back. She was my cousin, my favorite cousin. The problem was her brother is this maniac who can never make up his mind. He practically raised her and she was always trying to please him. Again, he could never approve or disapprove of anything she did, so she was never pleased with herself.

"I hated her brother for not being decisive; making her unsure of herself. He never gave praise and never reprimanded. Their parents died just after Lilli was born, so he was the only one around to raise her." Anthony explained somewhat rapidly.

"So, what happened to her?" I asked, curious about how Lilli died.

"She... well no one really knows all the reasons... but we found her hanging in the same room you slept in last night. It was very sudden. A tragic loss for my family."

"Woah, I'm really sorry. That must have been awful." I murmured, wanting to comfort Anthony. The cut from the death of Lilli still seemed to be open.

"I had lost... a very good friend. And now she's here. I just don't understand why." Anthony was staring hard at the floorboards. The first light of the day was starting to try and break through those annoying shades.

"We should go talk to her, then." I announced, opening the door to the kitchen eagerly.

I stepped into the kitchen and saw bacon lying on a pan. That would have explained the smell to me, but the stove was turned off and the bacon was still left uncooked.

"Lilli," I walked towards her silhouette. Anthony was standing in the doorway, uncertain.

"Matt, I want to tell you something." She reached for my hand and brushed it just slightly, so I could feel her. She felt horribly cold.

"Alright, speak up." I encouraged her.

"My brother... I feel he is the source of your problems. I think that is why I have appeared here again." She glanced at the shaded window over her shoulder and sighed.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked abruptly.

"I mean that I think my brother had something to do with the death of that boy. What was his name again?" Lilli looked to me for clarification.

"The boy? Wait, do you mean Caleb?" As I spoke, her eyes twinkled slightly.

"Ah, yes. That was his name." Lilli declared.

"But why would your brother have anything to do with his dead teammate?" Anthony demanded, moving further into the lonely kitchen.

"I don't know. I just have a feeling that this is why I have been called back here. To help solve a mystery." Her eyes sparkled with the idea.

"There is no mystery, I killed Caleb. If indirectly." Then I realized I was talking to a ghost. This is crazy.

"Do you know that for sure, Matt?" Lilli pressed, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Well... no." She seemed satisfied with my answer; turning the heat of the stove up to cook the bacon.

"Lilli, I'm not sure that I want you involved in this." Anthony blurted. Lilli looked sharply at Anthony.

"Don't ever, ever, say you aren't sure. I think I could scream at uncertainty!" She prodded at the bacon with a spatula and pointed it at Anthony's chest as if it would intimidate him.

"I'm sorry, Lilli." He groaned. She glared silently at the covered windows.

"I hate how he covered up the windows in this house after I died!" She suddenly yelled. Lilli threw down the spatula, startling me, and ripped the shades off to let the light from outside into the lonely house.

"It rained... it rained so much that month." Lilli sighed, stroking the cool glass of the now uncovered window.

Anthony and I both looked at each other, wondering what she was talking about. I thought she might be talking about the month of her death, but who knows?

"What day is it?" She asked us suddenly.

"Ummm... the twenty fourth of April." I answered slowly.

"So, the anniversary of my death has come and passed. How depressing." She picked the spatula back up and flipped the bacon over.

"Yes, three months ago." Anthony voice sounded constricted.

"Right, it was in January... I always hated that month." Lilli said absentmindedly.

Her musing was interrupted by shrill ringing from my phone upstairs. I ran to get it. It was Michelle.


	11. Chapter 11

I picked up my phone slowly, contemplating answering. With each ring it seemed to scream, "Answer me, Matt!" I was hesitating.

"Matt, thank God you answered! Where are you? I've been calling you since last night." Michelle exclaimed.

"I'm quite literally in the middle of nowhere. There isn't much cell reception around here, sorry." I apologized.

"Well, I just wanted to say that... I-I hope you can come back soon. I want to see if I can beat you at hockey."

I grinned at the thought of playing hockey with Michelle. "I'd love for you to try."

"One more thing before I let you go." Her voice got quieter.

"Yes...?"

"I'm worried about you, Matt. Everyone is, including Francis." That's weird, usually my dad isn't that concerned about me.

"I a-appreciate your concern." I stammered as Lilli floated into the room. I hate talking to Michelle like this.

"Come home, Matt." Michelle pleaded.

"I'll try. Goodbye, Michelle."

"'Bye." I glanced at my phone. 'Call ended.'

"Who's Michelle?" Lilli asked, staring at my phone.

"A... friend of mine."

I could tell Lilli knew I was lying.

"Come on, you can tell me. Ghosts are great at keeping secrets." She looked solemnly at the floor.

"Alright, she's this girl I've liked since forever." I explained plainly.

"I see, a crush." She looked sad. "I had a crush." I bet she wants to tell me about her crush.

"Who was he?" I asked.

"Oh, his name was Arthur." She absentmindedly stared at a spot on the wall. "There was a picture of him," She stopped short in front of the spot, "right here." She brushed the wall with her index finger.

I looked at her looking at the wall for what seemed like a very long time. "Should we go back downstairs to Anthony?" I asked, wondering if he was eating all the bacon. Lilli sighed; she might as well have screamed, "Let me tell you about Arthur!"

"Lilli, tell me about Arthur."

"He was quite rude to me..." She began, turning and examining her fingernails. "He was always making fun of my brother and I."

"I'm sorry."

"One day he got his group of friends to come up and ask me out. I said yes, and forgave him for making fun of my brother and I." I waited for her to continue. "Things got... bad. He got pretty abusive after he started smoking weed..."

The door to the room suddenly burst open and Anthony came storming through with what remained of the bacon. "WHAT?!"

"I never told you about Arthur, did I? You were away at college." Lilli told Anthony. "Please don't get angry, Anthony, but he abused me. Arthur would come here and..." A tear streamed down Lilli's face. I wanted to hug her more than I've ever wanted to hug anyone before, "He would tell me I'm beautiful and beg me to... make l-love to him." The tears came more frequently now.

"When I would refuse, he would get so angry. My brother never cared, he never heard me screaming. Arthur, the monster within Arthur, he... oh God don't be angry, Anthony, he r-raped me." Lilli confessed, breaking down into heavy sobs.

Anthony shook with anger. "I'm not done yet!" Lilli said, terrified of Anthony's enraged expression. Her voice got tiny as she continued. "He wouldn't let me break up with him. He begged for my forgiveness and when I would refuse he would beat me. It was terrifying. I was bruised all over my body every single day and no one seemed to care. When I found out Arthur got me pregnant, he finally decided to leave me. Nobody cared about me anymore, and I h-hung myself." The last part came out as a squeak.

"That unbelievable douche bag!" I exclaimed, kicking the wall with as much force I could muster. Anthony was white and I could practically feel the pain in his eyes.

"Lilli, I cared about you. I still do." He was crying, too. Hell, I was about to cry. Arthur must have been one hell of a shit-head.

Lilli wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. I wondered briefly how she could cry and produce tears if she was dead.

"You were at college; I thought you had forgotten about me." She whispered.

"I'll never forget about you. It's pretty hard, living in this house." Anthony answered.

Lilli just nodded, composing herself again. What a hell of a last year she must have had. I can only imagine. Actually, I can't even imagine being in her situation before she died.

"Anyway, I want to help you, Matt. You remind me that there are good men out there who don't abuse women." She said passionately.

"Thanks, Lilli. How are you going to help me?" I wondered, kind of confused as to how a dead girl would help me out with the Caleb situation.

"You'll see." Lilli smiled weakly, motioning for Anthony and I to follow her out of the room.


	12. Chapter 12

I had barely gotten off the phone with Michelle when Anthony and Lilli both demanded to know who it was that had called me.

"One of my friends from back home, why?" I interrogated.

"You had starry eyes when you looked at the caller I.D." Lilli giggled. Anthony laughed along with her.

"Psh, no I didn't." I blushed, giving myself away. Smooth, Matt, really smooth.

"Aww look Tony his face is getting red!" Lilli pinned Anthony with the nickname I've never heard him called before.

"Tony? Why didn't you have me call you Tony at the gas station?" I wondered.

"I prefer Anthony." He said firmly, making eye contact with Lilli.

Before Lilli could argue back, the doorbell rang. Anthony ran ahead and Lilli and I trailed behind him. It was the electric company.

"Just letting you know that the power will be shut off in two hours until tomorrow morning, we're doing some repairs." The man in the dark blue uniform explained. I noticed the grease stains on his front pockets and the bit of lettuce stuck between his teeth.

"Great, that's just what we need. To be here in the dark..." Anthony trailed off.

"It wouldn't be as dark if you would take those black light-blockers off the windows." The man at the door said, trying to be helpful. Lilli shot the man a look of approval. Wait... will the man notice that Lilli is a ghost in this early morning light?

The man tipped his hat and walked off with the tool kit he had set on the front step of the house.

"Excuse me, sir!" I ran swiftly out the door towards his truck. I needed to get my stuff from my car anyway. He turned and saw me jogging toward him. "You have a bit of lettuce stuck in your teeth, just thought you ought to know." I smiled politely (or what I thought was politely) at the man as he stopped in front of the battered door of his truck to look at his reflection in the side mirror.

I turned and walked back towards my car to drag my suitcase in and charge my dying phone. Yanking the suitcase out of the trunk and glancing at my hockey gear, a sense of guilt washed through me. I was letting my team down by running away from the reality: I had killed one of our teammates, if indirectly and accidentally.

The wheels of the suitcase struggled across the gravel driveway. Lugging it past the graveyard I had seen last night from the upstairs window, I thought I caught a glimpse of something behind the yard in the trees.

"Just your imagination." I muttered to myself, when a cold hand suddenly landed lightly on my shoulder. I stiffened, ready to use my suitcase as a weapon.

"Geezus, Matt. It's just me." Anthony grumbled as I turned around, nearly smacking his head with my own.

"Sorry, I just thought I saw something over there behind the graveyard." I pointed into the trees where I had seen the thing, whatever it was, and Anthony just shrugged.

"Who knows, it could have been a bear. C'mon, let's get back to the house." Lilli was standing in the doorway, holding a pan of scrambled eggs.

"Might as well eat these before the power in the fridge goes out." She handed me the pan and a fork. "We ate all the bacon already."

I grabbed the fork and started shoving eggs into my mouth. It seemed like it had been forever since the last time I ate.

Lilli walked into the kitchen where she was rewarded with sun rays piercing right through her transparent body. She sighed, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders and trying to get the sun to warm her pale face.

"It seems like it's been forever." She stated, puffing her bangs up with a breath of air.

"Since what, eh?" I inquired with a mouth full of the delicious eggs she made. Just the right amount of salt.

"Since I've felt the sunlight." She stated simply, drawing in the dust on the window sill.

"Oh, I see. I live in Northern Idaho so our winters get pretty rough but it's a great place to live in the summer. At least, I think so." Anthony came in and heated up some water in the microwave.

"It rained so much before I died. I think that's part of the reason why I was so depressed that year." Lilli was looking out the window, deep in thought.

"A very small part, I hope." Anthony murmured, as he took out his cup of hot water and poured some Swiss Miss hot chocolate into it.

"I suppose it _was_ a very small part, but a part just the same." Lilli sighed, examining her fingernails as if it made any difference what they look like when she is dead.

"Do you have any idea the impact you've had on all of us?" Anthony suddenly demanded, slamming his cup of hot chocolate on the counter so it sloshed over the sides. Lilli looked at him, startled like a deer in the headlights.

"I-I can't say that I do." Lilli apologized, wiping up the spilled drink with a paper towel.

"Your death? It tore everyone apart." Anthony told her, pushing his fists into the counter so that his shoulders hunched up. "I have been... stumbling through life these past years, without my cousin, my best friend Lilli, to accompany me through it."

"I d-don't know what to say." Lilli stammered, frightened of Anthony's piercing, steely gaze.

I felt like an intruder, but as soon as I made for the door Anthony put out his hand, telling me to stay. I obliged, quietly setting the pan for the eggs in the sink.

Anthony continued his stare-down with Lilli.

"I'm so sorry, Tony." Lilli made to hug him but stopped short as she realized she was transparent and could not be tangibly felt.

"I just wanted to help you, Lilli." Anthony sounded like he was going to cry. Personally, I had had enough of this (And, for all you readers, I'm starting to have enough of this too. What about you? -Megan) and just wanted them to get everything off their chest so maybe I could go home to my friends and family before the next frost. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll be back before labor day.


	13. Chapter 13

We were quietly going about our day when the power suddenly shut off, just like the man with the lettuce between his teeth said it would. Anthony grabbed a flashlight from the entry way and flicked it on, glaring at the black blinds which were absorbing the light that would be pouring in from outside.

"It looks like night all the time in here." Anthony observed, fingering the edge of one of the blinds.

"I agree, but if we tore them off we would ruin the edges of the windows." I said, trying to protect the creepy house. Though I'm not sure why.

"Not to mention all of the antique furniture in here would be destroyed nearly four times as fast." Lilli sighed, looking longingly through the gloom to the lit up kitchen.

The radio clicked on from a room upstairs. Considering the power was out and no one was upstairs, it really freaked me out.

"Hello?" I called out over the disc jockey talking about some hit new song by Snow Patrol. Since when has any Snow Patrol song been a hit?

"No one will answer." Anthony mumbled someone irritatedly. "No one ever does." He started up the stairs while Lilli and I just looked at each other in the stuffy darkness, then walked up after him.

The radio started to blast Chasing Cars.

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_Forget what we're told_

_Before we get too old_

_Show me a garden that's bursting into life_

Just as I was about to switch off the radio, the song ended and the radio turned off all by itself.

"Weird." I said, flicking the switch on the side to _off _just in case it decided to start back up again on it's own.

"Eh, I'm used to it." Anthony sighed, unplugging the radio for good measure. Turns out it was actually in the hallway on a small round table. "The question is, who plugged it back in?" He turned to Lilli, who promptly let out a small guilty smile.

"Being dead gets lonely." She confessed. I was about to say, "Then why did you kill yourself?" But I decided against it. Anthony just nodded, flicking the flashlight on and off.

"Do you have another one of those?" I asked, wanting to have one for myself.

"Oh yeah, here." He reached into his front pocket and produced a smaller flashlight that turned on if you pressed the back of it. The flashlight had a little wrist strap.

_So, I guess I'll be walking around until tomorrow morning with a flashlight dangling on my wrist. _I thought, aiming the beam at the walls and stopping when I saw a picture hanging by a hook.

There was a man seated at a table with a much younger girl, she looked about seven. She also looked quite a bit like Lilli.

"Hey, Lilli." I blurted, nearly sending my hand through the back of her head when she came up to me. "Is that you?" She gazed at the picture.

"Oh, yes. It seems like that picture was taken such a long time ago. That's my brother there with me." She pointed at the man.

"He's much older than you, then?" I questioned, creeping up closer behind her to get a better look.

"He was nearly fifteen when I was born."

"That's quite an age gap." I observed. Anthony had gone downstairs ahead of us.

"Like I said, he pretty much raised me." Lilli looked away from the picture of her and her brother.

We stood there by the picture on the wall for quite a long time until Lilli walked into her room, which was now my room. That's kind of weird.

"I want to show you something." Lilli said, dragging out the paintings from the closet.

First she showed me one of a wolf, bloodied up and teeth showing. It looked like it was going to leap off the page and kill me if I dared to so much as breathe.

"That's... amazing. Did you do that?" I whispered. Lilli just blushed and showed me another one.

"It's so realistic." I murmured as I stroked the tail of a different wolf that was stalking a white snowshoe rabbit.

"Thanks, I spent hours on these." I watched as she examined the painting in her hands. It was a field of dead flowers with a body lying in the middle of it. Then I caught a glimpse of her wrists.

I didn't think it was fair that she still carried the scars of her past with her to the grave. That she would bear the shiny white lines on her already pale skin for the rest of eternity. In death I always believed you would be washed of all sin and be given a completely clean slate to spend virtually forever with. Then again, nothing about death has ever been even a bit clear to me.

"Tell me again, Lilli. Why did you date Arthur?" Lilli stiffened.

"Well, once upon a time, he was my hero. You know, after he stopped making fun of me." So he started and ended as a monster. I waited for Lilli to continue. "When I cut my wrists," She glanced at the scars, "I intended for cuts to kill me. But he showed up and he tried to pick up the pieces, but the problem is he put them back together all wrong." She looked up at my face and I could see the thought of him still hurt her, even in death.

"He sounds like a dick." She flinched at my language.

"He just had no idea what he was doing to me. It's like he was poisoning me..." Lilli trailed off.

"Poisoning you?"

"He corrupted me with his ways." This was getting a little bit weird.

"I'm sorry... I'm just wondering how your brother is connected to me killing one of my teammates." I was getting a bit impatient with her all her mysteriousness.

"Right, I was just thinking that maybe my brother killed that guy. He's been known to just finish off people he finds dying. He doesn't believe in that whole 'saving people because it's the right thing to do' thing. He thinks the world is already over-populated, which it is, so he goes around and just kills anyone he finds that looks like they can't fend for themselves. He's a lovely character."

"Sounds like it." I had a bad taste in my mouth from trying to suppress my repulsion.

"So, I think we should find my brother. Get him to clear your name, if anything."

"Should we go down and tell Anthony?" I asked.

"Sure, let's do it." Lilli carefully stored her paintings back in the closet and closed the door tightly. She looked up at the ceiling, shuddered, and motioned for me to follow her.

Anthony was at the bottom of the stairs before you could say tiddly-winks. He had his cell phone out and was using it to light his way around the house.

"Where did the flashlight go?" I asked him while he pushed another button to keep the small area around him bright.

"It ran out of batteries." Anthony stated, turning his phone back off since I had a flashlight.

"Smooth, that's just like you." Lilli said as she walked down the last few steps. Anthony stuck his tongue out at her playfully.

"Real mature, Anthony." I smirked from the third step. "How old are you, again? Like twenty four?" Lilli laughed at my jibe.

"So, are we going to find my brother or not?" Lilli questioned, smiling at the two of us.

"Right, I think I know how to get a hold of him." Anthony said, feeling his way towards what looked like a cabinet.

"Careful, that cabinet has nearly fallen over on me before." Lilli called out to him.

"Aha, here's the contact list." That made me chuckle a little, nowadays everyone just had it programmed into their phones. Anthony found Lilli's brother's name and dialed his number. The phone began to ring.


	14. Chapter 14

We had tried about ten phone numbers we had that might've been Lilli's brother's, but each person had no idea who Basch Zwingli is. How are we going to find this guy when the power is out?

Then Lilli's eyes lit up in the beams of my flashlight and she dashed upstairs, the breeze from her sudden movement lifting my hair. She came back triumphantly with a sheet of paper that had a small portrait attached to it. Scribbled across the paper in large handwriting was a phone number.

"Call that number." Lilli whispered, shoving the paper in Anthony's face.

"Alright, geez Lilli." Anthony dialed the number into his phone and pressed call. The tension in the room reminded me of that split second moment of silence when someone shoots at the goal in hockey. Anthony put it on speaker.

A man's voice answered at the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Basch Zwingli?" Anthony asked while Lilli and I listened with baited breath.

"Mmm. What is your business?" The man interrogated.

"I'd like to meet up with my cousin Basch."

"Wait, who is this? Anthony, is that you?"

"Yeah." Anthony gave Lilli and I a small smile.

"Where are you?"

"Your old place."

"Ah, I remember now. You bought it after Lilli passed."

"Yes, now back to what I was talking about earlier." Anthony took a deep breath. "I want to meet up with you somewhere. It has to be close to the house."

"I suppose I could do that." Basch answered.

"Great, could you meet me in two hours at that super old restaurant just outside of town? I'll be bringing someone with me."

"I guess."

"Thanks, Basch. See you then , bye."

"Goodbye." Anthony hung up the phone and smiled over at us. Lilli started towards Anthony and raised her eyebrows as if to say, "What about me?"

"You can't come, someone might see you. Just imagine the effect you would have on a person, let alone your brother-practically-father!"

"Fine." Lilli sighed, walking into the kitchen and sitting on the counter. I watched her solemn eyes as she started out at the spring green foliage.

"You, however, are coming with me. Now." Anthony started to drag me out the door and I looked to Lilli for help but she didn't see me. I guess I'll be going to confront this guy, then.

Anthony hopped in the driver's seat without permission.

"Umm, this is kinda my car." I stood outside the open car door.

"And you kinda don't know where we're going." Anthony replied, buckling his seatbelt. He patted the passenger seat and I sighed, walking around the front of the car and sitting dejectedly in the passenger seat of my own car. I've _never_ sat here before!

I watched the trees tower over my tiny car. They were very green and enormous, nothing like what we had in Idaho. Not any that I had seen, anyway.

Anthony pulled into the empty parking lot; the lines had started to fade. I looked at the 'restaurant' with suspicion; it looked more like one of those shitty motels you see in the movies.

"Here we go." Anthony breathed, tucking something into his pocket. Maybe it was just his hand.

"Alright then." I said, just to say something.

We stepped in the doorway and the overwhelming smell that all old buildings seem to have overwhelmed me.

"What the hell is this place?" I whispered in Anthony's ear as he walked up to the man I had seen in the photo at the house.

"It's my meeting place." Anthony hissed back; waving at the man who must be Basch.

We walked up to the table and Basch looked at me, seemingly emotionless. He took a long pull from his glass of ice water and sized up Anthony and I over the rim.

"Well, what are we here for then?" He asked, setting his glass back delicately on the rickety wooden table.

"You see, this man I have here, has some things to ask you." Anthony said, pointing to me as he spoke.

"Have a seat." Basch said, pulling one of the chairs next to him out. Instead, I sat down across from him, facing the door.

"Well played." Anthony said so quietly in my ear that I almost didn't hear him.

"Basch, when was the last time you were in the northern part of Idaho?" I asked, taking a sip of my own water.

"I'd say about a week ago, why?" His face gave nothing away, he must be used to doing this kind of thing. Either that, or he had nothing to do with the killing.

"Can you tell me anything about a boy who died in an alleyway not that long ago? He was on my hockey team, you see."

"No, I'm afraid I cannot." He lost his composure-just for a second- and his pupil size increased. It was barely noticeable, but I had practiced these things on Alfred.

"You lie." I stated, as the waiter came up to take our orders. He was a small guy who looked like he might be sixteen at the most; the hand holding the pen trembled so much I wondered if his handwriting was even legible.

"Nothing for now, thank you." Anthony told him while I was staring down Basch. He fidgeted in his seat and took another sip from his glass, trying to hide the fact that he wiped his hands on his pants. He was sweating! I'm certainly getting _somewhere_ with this.

"I am not." Apparently Basch would need a little persuading.

"Tell me about Lilli." I blurted, wondering what his reaction would be to having his dead little sister mentioned. His eyes shone a bit but he quickly blinked.

"She, umm, she's dead."

"I already now that, you bastard." It didn't occur to me until later when Lilli told me about her parents that he quite literally _is _a bastard.

"Come on, no need to be throwing names around in such a... umm... restaurant." Anthony struggled to find a way to describe the shitty looking restaurant we were in.

"What's your name, kid?" He did _not _just call me a kid!

"I said tell me about your little sister."

"She was... very... special to me."

"Really, how so?"

"She was practically my daughter, I raised her from birth until she died."

"Again, I already knew that." Basch glanced over at Anthony, who shrugged.

"Umm, I think I was not very good to her."

"Oh, you think so?"

"Yes, I talked very little with her and kept our house mostly in silence. She could never have any friends over because I could never decided whether to say yes or no."

"Sounds like you gave her a _very _pleasant life." I said sarcastically.

"Please, don't make me talk about Lilli." Basch begged me, the first emotionally-charge words I had heard him say.

"Only if you talk about my dead teammate instead." I tapped my foot on the floor impatiently.

"A-alright, fine." Basch looked around him nervously.

"Look, everyone thinks I killed him because he was a pretty enormous douche bag to me and I got into a fight with him just before he died, but if we know who it really is then I can go back to Idaho and see my friends and family."

"Okay. I can tell you a bit but not much. The guy's nickname is Iggy and he has thick eyebrows. Twice the size of Anthony's." Basch described, pointing at one of Anthony's brows.

"Anything else?"

"Lilli; she knew him." My eyes lit up with excitement; I think I know who it is!

By the way, this is for Lilli. watch?v=UNGozTgUAkI


	15. Chapter 15

Yao:

I shivered as the cool Seattle air forced its way up my loose shirt. Above me, all I could see was gray, but after living in Washington for a few years you kind of get used to it.

On the way back from the Pike Place Market, a cold and dreadful feeling of being watched permeated my body. I do a lot of sketchy things that are most likely illegal, so don't blame me for walking a bit quickly and stepping on a few heels on the way back to my shop. I don't like being watched.

A couple familiar faces are waiting for me just outside the door, hoods up and sunglasses on, even on this cloudy day. Concealed identity is everything to my usual crowd.

There are cars parked everywhere along this Seattle street, a couple of Buick's, a Volvo, nothing too conspicuous. That's the way I like it.

I unlock the shop and motion for my customers to step inside out of the brisk Seattle morning and set my bag of miscellaneous items behind the counter.

"Welcome, Arthur. Hello, Ian." (Why yes I did include Scotland in this.)

"Yao, could you do something for me?" The Englishman asked, his voice low.

"Of course, why else would you ever come here?" I replied, a rueful smirk crossing my face. I think that pissed Arthur off.

"Dammit, could you stop whining and do it before he walks in here and sees me?" Arthur looked out the grimy front window of my shop nervously.

"Who's going to walk in here and see you?" I interrogated.

"His dead ex-girlfriend's cousin." Ian grinned sardonically. A hint of pain showed in Arthur's green eyes.

"My greatest regret... could you get this guy off my trail, just long enough so we can get out of here?"

"I suppose so. Go out the back." I sighed, opening the door to the alleyway and shutting the door quietly behind Arthur and Ian. Pivoting in my worn Nike tennis shoes, I made my way back to the front to see a couple of guys standing out front by what I assumed to be their ride.

"Why don't you two come inside?" I motioned for them to follow me and they just looked at each other as if each were wondering what the other was thinking.

"Come on then." I heard the taller one say, grabbing the other by the elbow and dragging him towards my shop. I turned and opened the door for them and let it close against the cold air with a good bang and a slight jingle of bells. I locked it when they stepped through, but I don't think either noticed this gesture of privacy customary to my kind of work.

"So, what are you here for?"

"We've come to ask you about a friend. My name is Matt and this is Anthony." The shorter one reached out his hand towards me and I shook it lightly; up and down.

"Well hello, which friend in particular are you asking about, and why?"

"We are asking about Arthur Kirkland, which I am sure you might have guessed, Yao. You know introducing ourselves was a joke; you're smarter than this." The intensity in Anthony's eyes grew deeper, permeated throughout his whole being.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I sneered, ducking behind my counter and digging out a the key to my cash register.

"Unless, of course, you are willing to throw in some cash?" I continued, unlocking the cash register drawer with a small ding.

Matt fumbled around in his pockets for a while until he found what he was looking for and whipped it out. My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the package. With the kind of people I deal with, it could be anything.

"How much do you want?" Matt demanded, grabbing a fistful of bills and waving them in my face.

"Let's see what the price is on a friend betrayal..." I joked as I poured over the examples of things I could do for my customers.

"You bastard, we just want to know if he's been up to his usual shit lately." Anthony grabbed a fistful of my shirt.

"No need to get hasty; one-fifty for selling out a friend." I reached out my hand for the money which Matt shoved violently into my hand, not looking me in the eyes.

I could tell he was new to this.

Matt:

After shoving the money into Yao's hands, I jerked my head around to face the street, where I thought I heard a noise other than the consistent pouring of Seattle's rain. Torrents of the wet stuff washed out all visibility. I'd hate to be out in that. Then again, it might be better than this hell of a shop.

I let Anthony do the talking; I'm not very good at that kind of thing. I wasn't really paying much attention to what they said to each other, though I should have. This is concerning _my _life after all.

The feeling of eyes burning into the back of my head was one I could not shake. I peered out the window at the storm.

There, just then. A flash of movement across the street. Walking up closer to the glass of the window, I could see the dark outline of a black coat with the hood pulled over a man's face. Was someone watching us from outside?

"Woah, how could I have forgotten that. Usually I pull these things down. Not that you can see much with all this rain." Yao yanked the string hanging from the blinds and they slid down with a shweeersh. Now how was I supposed to know if someone was across the street, watching the shop with an eager eye?

I shivered, I was acting like I was in some kind of detective show that plays on Monday nights back home. Then again, I was the prime suspect of one of my teammate's deaths, had driven to Canada and let some random person I met come in the car with me, stayed the night at his house, met his dead cousin's ghost, and then we drove all the way to Seattle just to get some information that _might _be relevant to the case of Caleb's death.

Come to think of it, this whole thing is insanity, and never have I gone this long without talking to Feli.

Suddenly, I miss him. A lot. Then I realized I hadn't so much as glanced at my phone in ages. Was it even in my pocket?

I slapped around at my waistline for a bit and shoved my hands deep into my coat until I emerged victorious. My phone has been off for quite some time, so I really had to press the button hard to wake it up. It's like it forgets how to function if I have it off too long.

I let the messages and voice-mails pile up and glanced at the closed blinds. I felt like I could see the shadow of someone standing right outside the window.

"A-anthony?" I tapped him on the shoulder nervously, he and Yao were having a heated moment but that could probably wait. We were, after all, being watched through the window of a downtown city shop. An illegal one, to boot.

"What is it, Matt?" He turned around to face me and saw the shadow. "Umm, Yao? Is it normal for people to stand outside your window and watch the shop through the blinds?" Anthony questioned, trying to make light of the odd situation.

Yao averted his gaze to the golden brown blinds, eyes narrowing as he examined the profile of the man at the window.

I turned my phone in the palm of my hand a few times, wondering what was going to happen. Would anything happen?

"I'll deal with this, I'll just be right outside. If anything happens, run out the back door and get the hell out of here. Don't worry, I'm used to this shit."

With that, Yao unlocked the door, I didn't even know it was locked, and stepped outside into the downpour, eying the silhouette.

Anthony and I watched as the man took a handful of Yao's shirt and threw him onto the pavement. I had just done something similar to Caleb not so long ago. Yao sprang back up and attempted to twist the man's arms behind his back. He wasn't fast enough and soon he was on the ground once again.

I could hear the bigger man's deep voice through the sturdy glass of the shop window, "If you ever do something similar to that ever again, I will put you out so bad, next time you wake up it'll be next Christmas."

"Alright, alright. Put me down, aru?" Came Yao's voice.

"Fine." Yao's body thudded against the glass and dropped to the ground. The man ran away swiftly and pulled his hood farther over his face.


	16. Chapter 16

Yao:

I shivered as the cool Seattle air forced its way up my loose shirt. Above me, all I could see was gray, but after living in Washington for a few years you kind of get used to it.

On the way back from the Pike Place Market, a cold and dreadful feeling of being watched permeated my body. I do a lot of sketchy things that are most likely illegal, so don't blame me for walking a bit quickly and stepping on a few heels on the way back to my shop. I don't like being watched.

A couple familiar faces are waiting for me just outside the door, hoods up and sunglasses on, even on this cloudy day. Concealed identity is everything to my usual crowd.

There are cars parked everywhere along this Seattle street, a couple of Buick's, a Volvo, nothing too conspicuous. That's the way I like it.

I unlock the shop and motion for my customers to step inside out of the brisk Seattle morning and set my bag of miscellaneous items behind the counter.

"Welcome, Arthur. Hello, Ian." (Why yes I did include Scotland in this.)

"Yao, could you do something for me?" The Englishman asked, his voice low.

"Of course, why else would you ever come here?" I replied, a rueful smirk crossing my face. I think that pissed Arthur off.

"Dammit, could you stop whining and do it before he walks in here and sees me?" Arthur looked out the grimy front window of my shop nervously.

"Who's going to walk in here and see you?" I interrogated.

"His dead ex-girlfriend's cousin." Ian grinned sardonically. A hint of pain showed in Arthur's green eyes.

"My greatest regret... could you get this guy off my trail, just long enough so we can get out of here?"

"I suppose so. Go out the back." I sighed, opening the door to the alleyway and shutting the door quietly behind Arthur and Ian. Pivoting in my worn Nike tennis shoes, I made my way back to the front to see a couple of guys standing out front by what I assumed to be their ride.

"Why don't you two come inside?" I motioned for them to follow me and they just looked at each other as if each were wondering what the other was thinking.

"Come on then." I heard the taller one say, grabbing the other by the elbow and dragging him towards my shop. I turned and opened the door for them and let it close against the cold air with a good bang and a slight jingle of bells. I locked it when they stepped through, but I don't think either noticed this gesture of privacy customary to my kind of work.

"So, what are you here for?"

"We've come to ask you about a friend. My name is Matt and this is Anthony." The shorter one reached out his hand towards me and I shook it lightly; up and down.

"Well hello, which friend in particular are you asking about, and why?"

"We are asking about Arthur Kirkland, which I am sure you might have guessed, Yao. You know introducing ourselves was a joke; you're smarter than this." The intensity in Anthony's eyes grew deeper, permeated throughout his whole being.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I sneered, ducking behind my counter and digging out a the key to my cash register.

"Unless, of course, you are willing to throw in some cash?" I continued, unlocking the cash register drawer with a small ding.

Matt fumbled around in his pockets for a while until he found what he was looking for and whipped it out. My eyes narrowed suspiciously at the package. With the kind of people I deal with, it could be anything.

"How much do you want?" Matt demanded, grabbing a fistful of bills and waving them in my face.

"Let's see what the price is on a friend betrayal..." I joked as I poured over the examples of things I could do for my customers.

"You bastard, we just want to know if he's been up to his usual shit lately." Anthony grabbed a fistful of my shirt.

"No need to get hasty; one-fifty for selling out a friend." I reached out my hand for the money which Matt shoved violently into my hand, not looking me in the eyes.

I could tell he was new to this.

Matt:

After shoving the money into Yao's hands, I jerked my head around to face the street, where I thought I heard a noise other than the consistent pouring of Seattle's rain. Torrents of the wet stuff washed out all visibility. I'd hate to be out in that. Then again, it might be better than this hell of a shop.

I let Anthony do the talking; I'm not very good at that kind of thing. I wasn't really paying much attention to what they said to each other, though I should have. This is concerning _my _life after all.

The feeling of eyes burning into the back of my head was one I could not shake. I peered out the window at the storm.

There, just then. A flash of movement across the street. Walking up closer to the glass of the window, I could see the dark outline of a black coat with the hood pulled over a man's face. Was someone watching us from outside?

"Woah, how could I have forgotten that. Usually I pull these things down. Not that you can see much with all this rain." Yao yanked the string hanging from the blinds and they slid down with a shweeersh. Now how was I supposed to know if someone was across the street, watching the shop with an eager eye?

I shivered, I was acting like I was in some kind of detective show that plays on Monday nights back home. Then again, I was the prime suspect of one of my teammate's deaths, had driven to Canada and let some random person I met come in the car with me, stayed the night at his house, met his dead cousin's ghost, and then we drove all the way to Seattle just to get some information that _might _be relevant to the case of Caleb's death.

Come to think of it, this whole thing is insanity, and never have I gone this long without talking to Feli.

Suddenly, I miss him. A lot. Then I realized I hadn't so much as glanced at my phone in ages. Was it even in my pocket?

I slapped around at my waistline for a bit and shoved my hands deep into my coat until I emerged victorious. My phone has been off for quite some time, so I really had to press the button hard to wake it up. It's like it forgets how to function if I have it off too long.

I let the messages and voice-mails pile up and glanced at the closed blinds. I felt like I could see the shadow of someone standing right outside the window.

"A-anthony?" I tapped him on the shoulder nervously, he and Yao were having a heated moment but that could probably wait. We were, after all, being watched through the window of a downtown city shop. An illegal one, to boot.

"What is it, Matt?" He turned around to face me and saw the shadow. "Umm, Yao? Is it normal for people to stand outside your window and watch the shop through the blinds?" Anthony questioned, trying to make light of the odd situation.

Yao averted his gaze to the golden brown blinds, eyes narrowing as he examined the profile of the man at the window.

I turned my phone in the palm of my hand a few times, wondering what was going to happen. Would anything happen?

"I'll deal with this, I'll just be right outside. If anything happens, run out the back door and get the hell out of here. Don't worry, I'm used to this shit."

With that, Yao unlocked the door, I didn't even know it was locked, and stepped outside into the downpour, eying the silhouette.

Anthony and I watched as the man took a handful of Yao's shirt and threw him onto the pavement. I had just done something similar to Caleb not so long ago. Yao sprang back up and attempted to twist the man's arms behind his back. He wasn't fast enough and soon he was on the ground once again.

I could hear the bigger man's deep voice through the sturdy glass of the shop window, "If you ever do something similar to that ever again, I will put you out so bad, next time you wake up it'll be next Christmas."

"Alright, alright. Put me down, aru?" Came Yao's voice.

"Fine." Yao's body thudded against the glass and dropped to the ground. The man ran away swiftly and pulled his hood farther over his face.


	17. Chapter 17

Matt:

Ten seconds, thirty seconds, fifty seconds, they ticked by like hours. Was Yao playing dead? I opened the blinds a bit to peer out the bottom. I could barely see the top of Yao's bloody head.

"Should we go out and help him?" I turned and asked Anthony. The thought of the man in the dark coat still sent chills up and down my spine.

"Stay here Matt, I'll help him." Was that supposed to be an insult to my strength? Either way, I was still acting like a space Cadette, on my knees and staring out what little of the window was actually visible. Across the street was what interested me the most. Where could that guy have come from?

Anthony opened the door and the bells bounced against the black metal frame of the door. Just a typical shop door, for a not so typical shop.

Yao had opened his eyes now, and he was staring right at me.

"I told you guys to get the hell out of here. Do it now, while you still can."

He didn't need to tell me twice. I ran out the back with Anthony on my heels. We were just slipping out the door when the one in the front of the shop banged open.

I ran for my car, not wanting to get into any more trouble than I already was back in Idaho. Plus, Yao had told us to get out of here. Who would I be to contradict that?

I fumbled with the keys until I successfully unlocked the door; Anthony and I jumped in as discreetly as we could. Then we watched the front of the store, as if we could look through the blinds with x-ray vision to see what was happening.

"Drive," Anthony told me, shoving my arm a bit to pull me out of my trance. I obliged, thanking my car for having a fairly silent engine. Who knows why Yao wanted us to get out of his shop. It could be anything, really.

I wanted to feel the raindrops again on my skin; I don't know why, but I'm obsessed with rain. I just love it. I took my damp coat off and let the drops hit my bare arms. Anthony looked at me like I was crazy.

"What the hell are you doing, Matt? Look, your pants are getting soaked now."

Anthony rolled his eyes at me as I smiled and replied, "That's the way I like it."

"Wet and freezing?" Anthony's eyebrows were raised.

"Yeah, pretty much." I kept on driving through Seattle, past Century Link Field and Safeco. I could have sworn the stadium used to be called Qwest. At least, from what I had heard from some guys in class a couple years ago.

Anthony still hadn't told me anything about what Yao had said, I suppose he was waiting for the right opportunity.

Yao:

"Go ahead. Do it; I know you want to." I stared at the white haired tall man who was so very full of himself.

"I dare you to stop me." He smiled but it turned into a grimace as he slammed his foot onto my chest. I gasped for air, pretending to be weak and turning my life over in my hands. This man wouldn't kill me. Would he? It's funny how I don't care.

"Damn you, Gilbert. Get the hell off of me." I groaned, his foot digging deeper into my rib cage.

"Make me." He said slowly, smiling as he drew a shining blade from his pocket. Unfortunately, I was two steps ahead of him.

Whipping my pocket knife quickly out of my pocket, I sliced his leg and he recoiled, losing his firm control on my breathing. I leaped up and knocked his knife out of his hand, scooping it up and slicing his shoulder with it.

"Going to stop me? I will carve every inch of your flesh with this blade." I held it against his shining throat, fully prepared to slit it. He backed up into my cash register and I had him trapped.

That was when Arthur burst through the door.

"Yao, stop. You can't handle this." A drop of sweat made its way down my face, dripping off my chin onto the hardwood floor of my shop.

"You're so right, Arthur. I assume you'll be doing this yourself?" Gilbert laughed darkly, his arrogance clear even in the way he was standing.

"Perhaps I will." Arthur took my position with a flick of his wrist and a shove, landing me on my side several feet away. He had one knife to Gilbert's throat, another between his shoulder blades.

"Make one move, and you will be dead quicker than you can say _Kirkland_." Arthur hissed, the knife pressing so close to Gilbert's skin I assumed he would soon draw blood. That I, of course, would have to clean up later. Maybe I could get Peter to do it.

"Go ahead," Gilbert snarled, "but I swear I will make your life _hell, _even if you kill me. I'll find a way."

"Perfect, I like my victims with some fight left in them." Arthur grinned sadistically and ran the blade of his knife along Gilbert's throat. Crimson rivers formed and trickled down his chest.

"I will slice you like a cake."


	18. Chapter 18

Gilbert:

Blood ran down my face as Arthur cut my cheek, nearly giving me a scar to match Lars' across my eye. I was letting him cut me, and thankfully he hadn't caught on yet. The guy likes a fight.

"Dammit." He spat out, flicking his blade back into his pocket and attempting to wipe away some of the blood on his clothes. I don't see why he bothered, there was a pool of blood at our feet.

I raised my eyebrows questioningly, wondering why he had suddenly stopped.

"ARTHUR, vut did you _do_?" Roderich demanded as he came in and saw the pool of blood around me.

"He asked for it." Arthur muttered darkly as Yao inched along the floor behind the counter to grab cleaning supplies.

"Everybody knows zat my Gil doesn't just get cut up like zat." Roderich traced the lines of blood on my face and I winced as he ran his hand over the cut on my cheek. He cast a hard glare at Arthur and started to dab at my face with a handkerchief soaked from the Seattle rain.

"May I ask, Roderich, why you are here?" England hissed, still fingering the knife in his pocket.

"I could ask ze same as you, Arthur." He replied nonchalantly, still attempting to dab my face clean.

"Rod, I don't think that's working." I said through clenched teeth, his cleaning starting to open the cuts again. I cast a look around the shop and my eyes set on Yao, kneeling behind his counter and dusting off a few random items only he could find. One of them was a pink Hello Kitty clock that told the time only in Japanese. I smirked slightly. _A gift from Kiku. _

Ian suddenly burst through the back door, face flushed and singing about whiskey. He tramped through the short hallway, tracking in mud and pine needles, and swaggered over to Arthur, where he stood disapprovingly.

"Yao," Arthur started, making the Chinese man jump up from his polishing and hide the clock behind his back, "stop polishing that damn clock and clean this place up."

Yao blushed and set the clock down.

"Arthur," Ian slurred, "I have something... _important _to tell you. And them." He pointed at Roderich and I.

"What is it?" Arthur hissed, casting a glance towards a closet near the back of Yao's shop where he was banging around and cussing quietly.

"Well you see, I met Lars in a pub not to fa-"

"YOU MET _LARS? _WHAT THE HELL IS _HE _DOING HERE?" Arthur screeched, then cleared his throat, "Sorry, uh, continue."

"Anyway, Lars told me that he's back for revenge."

Lilli:

The house was silent. Basch had left to do God-knows-what earlier this morning and he wouldn't be back until at least midnight. I had been alone all day. This is not a good thing for me, I cannot stand to be alone. Usually Arthur would keep me company but...

Well it doesn't matter now, does it? He's gone. Everyone's gone. They've left me here to fend for myself. I'm not good at fending for myself.

I sighed and threw myself onto my bed, staring up at the blank ceiling of my bedroom. I wonder if my brother would care if I died today...? Would anyone even notice?

I walked over to the picture frames hung on my bedroom walls. I ran my hand along a photo of Arthur while absentmindedly tracing the scars he had left on my body.

"Why would you do this to me?" I whispered, tears streaming down my face. I then turned to a photo of Anthony and I as kids. I hadn't talked to him since three months after he left for college in America. He had gotten a scholarship to some random university barely anyone has ever heard of in the state of Montana. He didn't even live very far away, and I have his cell phone number, but he never answers my phone calls and never responds to my texts. I picked up my cell phone hesitantly, playing with the buttons until I dialed Anthony's number.

Three rings, four rings, five rings...

_Please pick up. _

Eight rings, nine rings..

"Hi," Anthony began. My heart skipped a beat.

"H-hello, Anthony?" I struggled to find my voice. I missed him so much.

"..you've reached Anthony, I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I will call you as soon as possible. 'Bye," his voice mail proceeded to tell me to leave a message after the beep. I snapped out of my stupor.

"Hi, it's Lilli. If you get this message just know that I... I love you and I miss you. You don't have to call back if you don't want to. Bye," I hung up and threw my phone across the room. I was stupid to think he would actually answer. Why would anything change just because I needed to talk to him so badly?

I was so frustrated I kicked over a few of my gory paintings with the muddy boots I forgot I was wearing. The paintings fell to the floor, revealing a rope I had stolen from Basch when he was trying to.. well, it's not important what he was trying to do with it.

A vast feeling of emptiness washed through me as I realized what I could do with this rope. Right here, right now.

I took a deep breath and looked out the window at the pouring rain. I was _so sick _of rain. I cannot stand another second of winter. I had made up my mind. I wouldn't have to endure another day of this pain eating away at my soul. I would never have to be alone again.

I took the chair from my desk and made sure the rope was going to support my weight. If I was going to die, I would die as quickly as possible. A painless death, unlike my painful life.

I wrapped the rope around my neck, took a deep breath, stepped off the chair and-

I was gone. Forever. Or so I thought.

The weeks following my death were hard to watch. I was a spirit, in a sense. I was no more aware of myself than anyone else was, but for some reason I can remember watching myself get buried in graveyard visible from my bedroom window. I can remember Basch walking into the house just half an hour after I had passed, calling my name when he didn't find me in the living room waiting up for him. I never could have imagined his reaction when he walked into my room.

My body hung limply from the ceiling, my eyes still open, "looking" straight at my brother. He tried his best to remain his cool, placid self but instead he ran over to me, took off the rope from around my neck, and sobbed. He didn't bother to call anyone, I was already dead.

I had never seen my brother shed so much as a tear when I was alive, or show any emotion at all. I immediately wished I could take back what I had done, but I couldn't, of course.

To anyone who is listening right now, someone out there cares about you. I didn't think anyone who knew me would be this greatly affected by my suicide, but they were. I watched Basch storm around the house, fire a rally of shots at some innocent Canadian geese flying over the yard, and laugh as everyone single one of them fell to the ground. Yes, he _laughed. _My placid brother who never shows any emotion.

I'll admit, it scared me. He still scares me. I hated him for hanging up the black light-blockers or whatever those things are on all the windows of the house. Darkness depresses me, and he had to go and ruin a good Canadian summer with those God forsaken blinds. Anthony told him it was a stupid idea to put them up, but you never tell my brother something he wants to do is stupid when there's a gun within ten yards of him. Never. It ends badly.

I guess you could say I regret it a lot, what I had done to myself. It hurt all of the people I loved.

Anthony never did go back to his university after Basch told him what I had done.

The first night when he came back he decided to check his voice mail. When he got to mine the tears started streaming down his face. He just let them flow freely. If spirits, or ghosts, or whatever I am had the ability to cry, I would have been too. He had whispered to himself, "If only I had answered the phone..." and started crying harder.

So you see, I've made it difficult for everyone.


	19. Chapter 19

Matt:

Anthony and I had decided to stop at a hotel. I made sure it had wifi so I could check my email; not that anyone did that anymore. I was just wondering if Feli would contact me that way. I hadn't gotten any calls or texts from him in what seemed like ages.

Anthony went to take a shower and I pulled up gmail on the ancient computer in front of me. Seriously, this thing had to be older than I was. There were countless emails waiting for me, but I only cared about one. I opened it, hoping for the best.

_Dear Matt, _

_Things are so different with you gone. It's been awhile since I've talked to you and I miss you so much. Why won't you answer my calls? Your mom really misses you. I don't think she's even quite sure how to go about life without you. I'm not quite sure if I know how to go about life without you, either. Please come back soon. _

_ Caleb's body, as I'm sure Feli told you, was found in that alleyway by the skating rink and it sure blew our small town into a wave of turmoil. The cops have questioned everyone that knows you well hundreds of times in the past few days. Me, your mom, Feli, Alfred, every single person on the hockey team, the list goes on and on. I think they were particularly interested in your coach, though. Asking about what motives you would have to... erm... I don't want to say it. Never mind. _

_ School's been okay, in case you were wondering. You'll likely have tons of homework when you come back. You are coming back, right? I've been wondering about that for quite some time now. Like when I send you a text and you don't respond, or I call you and I don't answer. Or I'm just driving by your house in the mornings going to school and I don't see your car in the driveway and I know it won't be in the school parking lot either. _

_ My mom knows something is up whenever they mention Caleb on the news. She sees me stiffen and try to give her my best poker face. I have an _awful _poker face. She's been wondering for awhile now if I have anything to do with this mess of a murder I know deep down inside you didn't do. So why did you run, Matt? Why have you left Feli, your mom, and I here to pick up the pieces? That's what gets me. I know Feli told you to run, but you know he's not the best at fight or flight. _

_ Anyways, I hope you are doing well, wherever you are. I... umm... this is awkward. _

_ I love you. _

_ -Michelle _

_P.S. Write me back, please? _

Wait. Hold on. Michelle said she _loves _me? I stared at the screen, in shock. I read it again. _I love you. _Yep, it was definitely there.

Wow. Did the world just suddenly flip upside down and in reverse? My stomach seems to bring some proof to that theory. I guess I better write Michelle a reply, especially since she asked. And told me she loved me. I scroll to the place where it says, "compose mail" and click the button. Where do I begin?

_Dear Michelle, _

_I love you too. I always have. And as for coming back? Of course I will, how could you even imagine otherwise? I love all you guys too much. My whole life is back in Idaho. None of this feels real. I've driven for hours in a huge loop from Idaho to Montana, all the way to Canada, back through Montana and Idaho and to Washington. I'd tell you exactly where I am but nothing's really safe on the internet, you know? Please understand. I trust you, I just don't really trust that someone won't let something slip. As to why I haven't called you back; I just haven't thought about it, honestly. Ever since our last phone call I haven't so much as looked at my phone. I couldn't even tell you where it is right now, but it might be in my car. Maybe. I'm so sorry that I left all of you with a huge mess of things to clean up, and even I wonder about why I ran. Perhaps for the adventure of it? You know how our little town can get so monotonous. Perhaps I decided to take Feli's advice and just get the hell out of Idaho. I can tell you now, it's a thrill a minute running around the Pacific Northwest like this. It made me sad to hear that you missed me so much, I had no idea you would. I mean, we haven't talked pretty much ever since... things that won't be mentioned. I always wondered why, too. But it's good that we can come back to our friendship. For now, just keep an eye out for any funny business going on, alright? I'm trying to figure out who did this, even if it is me. Hey, it's a possibility right? _

_Love,_

_Matt_

Anthony walked in just as I sent my email to Michelle. He eyed me with suspicion and I laughed.

"What?" he asked, looking down at the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Put some clothes on!" I exclaimed, opening my suitcase and throwing him one of my bigger shirts Feli had packed me.

"Okay, Matt. Calm down," Anthony laughed, threw the shirt over his head, and walked back into the bathroom. I scoffed and logged out of my email, not wanting to forget about it and leave it up or something. Anthony might see it.

I walked over to the window where I could see out into Seattle. The rain left streaks of wet on the window and if I listened enough I could hear it hitting the roof several stories above. The landscape before me brought one thing to mind; how the hell was I going to be able to go back? I told Michelle I would but honestly, if the cops over there think I'm a suspect for the mystery of Caleb's death, I don't see how I could come back any time soon.

A/N: I feel really bad that I'm kind of neglecting Matt's part in the story but I have such a huge amount of writer's block on his part of the plot right now. Sorry if this makes anyone sad. :c

Arthur:

"Revenge?" I asked, my lips curling, "why would he want revenge?" Gilbert rolled his eyes and wiped some of the blood off his forehead.

"If you don't know, Arthur, then honestly you are the most blind man I have ever known." Yao looked angrily at me as I whirled around to stare him down.

"What exactly do you mean?" I snarled, "I can count each individual grain in the wood on the ceiling from where we stand this very second." I looked up and started counting for emphasis.

"Not that kind of blind, you idiot. If you don't know I don't think now is the right time to explain it to you. I'm sure Lars will get to that when he finds us all just standing in here like a bunch of-"

"Blithering idiots?" I cut off, heading for the exit at the front of the shop, "That's my line."

"Calm down, Arthur."

"Calm? I'm perfectly calm," I replied, "I just don't particularly want to still be standing in this shop when Lars comes after me for some random reason everyone else apparently knows about but me!" I grabbed Ian's wrist and pulled him out the door with me and into the rain.

"Hello, Arthur," a voice spat out from a few feet away, "and Ian," the voice continued. I whipped around to face...

Lars. ((EPIC FAIL)) He was holding a pipe in his left hand and smacking it into his right, sending little ringlets of smoke into the air. It was pretty weird looking.

"Lars, what the hell do you want?" I asked stiffly, dragging Ian out from behind me.

"You killed her." He looked really pissed off, his eyes were narrowed so far that his eyebrows were almost knit together.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I answered, shrugging and elbowing Ian in the side.

"Yeah, he doesn't know what you're talking about." Ian said unhelpfully.

"I think you know _perfectly _well what I am talking about." Lars moved closer and I got ready to wail on him, hoping this wouldn't turn into a fight but if it did, who was I to back down?

"No, I honestly do not."

"You bastard. I'm talking about _Lilli_," he articulated carefully in case I misunderstood him, "Ian, get the hell out of here," he added. Ian shrugged and went back into the shop, the door swinging shut with a "_ding_" behind him. My eyes revealed nothing, but inside I had a million memories running through my mind. Lilli telling me she loves me. Lilli showing me her paintings. Vasch telling me to come over... Vasch showing me her hanging from the ceiling...

And all those times I had hurt her...

"That was not my fault." But it was.

"You are a killer, Arthur Kirkland. First you killed my love, and now you've killed that boy in Idaho. You're a _monster._" His words would have hit me hard, but I decided to hit him hard with my fists instead. _Like you hit Lilli, _a treacherous voice in my head whispered. I ignored it, my fists connecting with Lars' head. It felt good. I felt alive.


End file.
